


Bread, Salt and a Sprig of Barley

by bookwyrmling



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Accidental Outing, Anime Universe, M/M, Mentioned Momo/Ann, Mentions of Real Tennis Players, Tezuka's elbow injury strikes again, because they've all been to Munich before, plenty of silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 16:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15634008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwyrmling/pseuds/bookwyrmling
Summary: It's been years since the old Seigaku Tennis Club had gotten together, but not a one of them wanted to miss out on Fuji and Inui's newest scheme. After all, it's not every day you find out two of your friends have been secretly dating.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Tenipuri Bang 2018. Due to some issues, the art has not been completed. Once it is made, the story will be edited to include it. Both the artist and I agreed, however, that it would be best to at least get the story out.

_ i. _

“Ah, hello, Tezuka? This is Inui. I was calling because while analyzing some data from your last few matches and post-match interviews with Echizen, as well as reading through a recent magazine interview-”

Inui paused as his phone beeped, proof the call had been ended, and while he wanted to believe the call had simply been dropped, the Tokyo University research student knew his data well enough when it came to Tezuka and phone calls.

He called again anyway.

“-as well as reading through a recent magazine interview, the data suggested some interesting extrapolations I was hopi-”

The beep sounded again and Inui pulled the phone away from his ear with a sigh. He could try calling again; he might even be able to complete his sentence—twenty-two percent likelihood—but it was clear he would not get the confirmation he sought from Tezuka.

Inui dialed a different number.

“Inui, this is a surprise. What brings this call about?” Fuji’s voice lilted through the question and made it sound like the call was not really a surprise, at all. For all Inui’s data could suggest, Fuji might have actually been expecting his call, considering the speed at which he had answered. Or maybe he just wanted a break from his psychology coursework.

“Ah, Fuji, I was hoping to speak with you in regards to some interesting data I have recently gathered in regards to Tezuka and Echizen-”

“You mean Tezuka’s  _ Tennis World _ interview?”

Sometimes Inui wondered how Fuji knew as much as he did and if he could weasel his way into the good graces of the man’s sources. Other times, Inui realized he might be better off not finding out.

“Yes, actually,” Inui replied as he cleared his throat, “The data has led to some intriguing conclusions that Tezuka refuses to comment on and being as you are a bit more sensitive to the intersocial bonds people hold, I was wondering if you might concur with my speculations in regards to the details of the relationship he may hold with Echizen.”

Fuji chuckled, “I was wondering when others would begin to realize. Though Tezuka certainly isn’t hiding anything from those who know him well with a comment like that.”

“So you already knew?”

“I had a feeling it would be heading in that direction since junior high. Though it wasn’t until I was studying in Austria last spring term and stopped over in Munich to visit that I found direct evidence. Tezuka was not very happy that I had not called him before dropping in.”

“Evidence? What? What’d you see, Fuji? Something about Tezuka? Is it blackmail? Tell me!”

Inui pulled his ear away from the phone in confusion before his mouth grimaced in realization as to why Fuji’s voice had sounded tinny through the earpiece. It wasn’t the connection. “Fuji, do you have this call on speaker phone?”

“My hands were a little preoccupied, Inui, I hope you don’t mind,” Fuji chuckled, “Eiji and I are having a little party while we catch up. Currently, I’m teaching him how to play Follow the Queen.” Inui had a distinct feeling that Kikumaru would not be buying any special flavors of toothpaste for the rest of the month after Fuji’s lesson ended. Fuji, on the other hand, would likely be able to afford a new lens for his reflex.

But that was not the issue at hand. The issue at hand was that Kikumaru was still sitting next to Fuji clamoring for some, “dirt on that staunch ol’ Tezuka.” But if Kikumaru found out, it would not be long until everyone knew and Inui was one hundred percent certain that Tezuka was keeping this particular fact a secret for a reason. How long would this last before the group’s realization made it back to Tezuka and Echizen? How would they react? Was their relationship stable enough to handle others knowing? Did Inui want it to be? Like an experiment gone wrong, Inui’s data and conclusions were leaving him with nothing but questions and, with both Tezuka and Echizen residing on different continents from him and each other, there was no way for Inui to observe any closer.

“Tezuka is dating Echizen. Has been for at least a year.”

Inui sighed at Fuji’s easy admission and waited for Kikumaru’s response on the other end of the currently silent line.

When it came, the explosion was loud enough to startle and Inui tore the phone from his ear. Realizing his conversation with Fuji would get nowhere at this point, but that he had at least confirmed his original reason for calling, Inui ended the call.

He one hundred percent expected the sushi reunion scheduled for next week—when Kawamura returned from helping out an old friend and sushi chef, named Iwakura Gen, in Hokkaido—when the invitation from Fuji popped into his inbox. He would be sure to at least have all of his data regarding the matter in order for an appropriate presentation of the facts.

_ ii. _

“Wow! It’s like...it’s different but the same.”

“It seems smaller, you know.”

“Isn’t it just that you’re bigger?”

“Haha, I guess it could be that.”

“It’s hard to believe it’s been ten years since we were last here.”

“It’s hard to believe I’m even here. I haven’t left Tokyo for more than business trips since graduating high school. I haven’t left the country since my junior high graduation trip.”

“With all the time I spent helping Gen-san in Hokkaido, I feel kind of bad leaving my dad to mind the shop on his own again.”

“But wasn’t he the one who said you should take a break with your friends, Taka-san?”

The small group of Japanese tourists worked their way through the Munich Airport. They were now working their way through customs, the more exuberant members of the group drawing glances here and there. The terminal was filled with other international travelers, including many tourists just as excited to be there as this particular group.

“Echizen and Tezuka said they’d be waiting right after customs, right?” Kawamura questioned, his voice small in demonstration of the wariness they all felt in being in such an obviously foreign land, whose signs they spent five minutes muttering over while trying to decipher before Fuji pointed them in the right direction after they gave up and were eyeing the employees for the likeliest one to understand their chopped English. “I’ve already called Tezuka and he said he is waiting with Echizen,” Fuji replied before they turned a corner and caught sight of a tall, bespectacled man and another dark-haired man of average height. Momoshiro snorted at the way Echizen had his signature cap pulled low to avoid being recognized. Someone would likely recognize his hat before they would his face.

“Oi! Echizen! Tezuka-san!” Momoshiro called out while waving his free hand into the air. Tezuka nodded his recognition while Echizen pulled his cap down even further. He must have said something because Tezuka turned his head in the younger man’s direction and Echizen’s slouch only deepened.

Eyes and attention from the terminal centered on the two tennis stars and Fuji laughed. They were a day away from the start of the BMW Open. Even if the terminal was not filled with individuals visiting Munich to see the competition, anyone who followed international sports news knew those two names. Tezuka had made a name for himself with his clean and well-thought out tennis. He was being compared to Federer quite regularly, especially as the Swiss star was nearing the age of expected retirement, even if he was still going strong. Echizen, on the other hand, had entered professional tennis like a bottle rocket and his quick rise in the ranks was often compared to Nadal. Whenever asked to comment on the comparison, Echizen would snort and say he wouldn’t be giving up his number one spot once he got it.

“Look what you did now, Peach Butt,” Kaidoh pointed out with a glare as a few individuals stepped up to the two identified athletes pulling out pens and scratch pieces of paper. Several camera flashes and clicks went off—not all of them belonging to Fuji—and Echizen seemed to shrink and disappear behind Tezuka. Tezuka conceded to the requests for autographs, taking the attention upon himself and the old Seigaku regulars watched until another individual sidled up to them.

“If you guys don’t get a move-on, all those signatures are going to be for nothing.”

“Ah, Echizen, there you are,” Fuji offered with a smile.

“Ochibi!” Kikumaru greeted as he flung his arms over Echizen’s shoulders. While Echizen was no longer the shortest in the group—and had, actually, been on the taller side of average for his age even when he had been—he was still the youngest and Kikumaru had made it clear the nickname he’d garnered in junior high would be one he was stuck with for life.

“Hm, I see, so Tezuka will throw himself in front of fans in order to protect Echizen, who prefers to avoid them,” Inui muttered, pulling a notebook and pen out of his carry-on. Echizen rolled his eyes because of course Inui would still be keeping data on Tezuka.

“Not really,” he corrected with a shrug, “Tezuka doesn’t like them, either. He’s just better at it than me. He cares about their feelings and whatnot.”

“It’s not a matter of better or caring, Echizen,” a stern voice scolded as they slipped outside, Echizen having found himself hidden amongst the group after Momoshiro had pulled his cap off, calling it the most recognizable part about him, “It’s a matter of responsibility and duty, not to mention an opportunity to stoke another person’s passion for the game.”

“And Tezuka, I’m sure you are quite the passionate person,” Fuji quipped with a sly smirk which the taller man immediately ignored as he turned to greet Oishi and lead the group to a van waiting outside.

“Tezuka’s always struck me as being about as passionate as a rock,” Momoshiro muttered to himself at the back of the group. Echizen, who had taken up space next to him after escaping Kikumaru’s odd demands that he walk right next to Tezuka, snickered.

_ iii. _

“But, Oishi, they’re so BOOOOOORING!” Kikumaru moaned as he threw himself bodily onto the bed in the room they were sharing with Momoshiro. Everyone was currently crammed in, Kikumaru dragging Fuji and Inui in, with Kawamura following. Kaidoh, not wanting to be left out, was shortly behind. “They didn’t even hold hands or walk next to each other or sit next to each other in the van, even though I tried to make them!”

“Eiji, I don’t think either much appreciates the interference,” Oishi tried to calm his friend and partner down. The two continued to play doubles tennis, but only in local tournaments and for fun when Oishi’s medical residency allowed him time.

“But, Oishi, if they’re a couple, shouldn’t they be all love-love?” the redhead argued before throwing himself back up off the bed and pivoting to point at Momoshiro, “Don’t you think so, too, Momo? I mean, you’re always love-love with Tachibana’s sister!”

“She’s my fiancee, of course we’re love-love!” Momoshiro threw his hands up in defense. “And her name is An. It’s a cute name, so use it!” The wedding—a Western one—was planned for next summer, after An university broke for the month's break. Momoshiro was using the time to save up money with his job and try for a promotion to sales lead. “Anyway, if they are really together and love each other, then I guess that’s good and all,” he continued with some hesitation, “but I don’t think I want to see either of them being all love-love. It’d be weird even if it was with a girlfriend.”

Kaidoh’s fidgeting suggested his own awkwardness at the situation, but nobody seemed too surprised as the shy education major—his mother always said government jobs were the most stable way to go—had always been uncomfortable with romantic or personal situations.

Kawamura chuckled and rubbed at the back of his head in chagrin.

“Previous observations,” Inui barged into the conversation as he looked through pages of calculations and suppositions, “along with the fact that the two have managed to keep their relationship secret for at least the past year would suggest that neither is a love-love type.”

“At least not in public,” Fuji chuckled and watched Momoshiro choke on his sigh of relief as his face went blue.

_ iv. _

The first set had taken an hour. The second set had gone to tie break and taken one and a half hours. The audience had thinned during the slow game and yet those who remained, much like the announcers, were in awe at the concentration shown in both men during such long and intense rallies. Tezuka and Bellucci were both tied, one set each, and Bellucci had just taken the sixth game of the third set, leaving the score at three all. It was now his serve, too.

Echizen, who had joined the group in a poor disguise of sunglasses and trademark cap—the latter of which Momoshiro had instantly stolen and hidden—sat amidst the group, using the others as his defense from any fans who may recognize him. While he had been watching closely since the start of the match, as always, he had grown exceedingly more quiet with the last game and the cocky grin that spoke of Tezuka’s victory had begun to fade as focus settled in. It was when Bellucci took his fifth game—eight minutes to break point—of the third set that Inui hummed in confusion. Echizen’s face settled into a glower. Fuji’s calm smile was fading, as well.

“What is it, Inui?” Kikumaru asked as he leaned over the other man’s shoulder, attempting to peek into the notebook Inui continued to scrawl in. The pages slammed shut in the redhead’s face and Inui’s glasses glinted their warning.

“Tezuka typically uses a straight arm forehand,” he explained all the same, “For this tournament, especially, I would expect him to be using it, as a straight arm forehand can increase power and topspin, which are both necessities on a clay court with slower play and high bounce. And yet he’s currently playing with a double bend forehand. It increases control, yes, but it can decrease a player’s flexibility and power, not to mention severely shortening his reach.”

“Maybe he’s reserving his strength?” Oishi suggested, his own troubled frown surfacing at Tezuka’s apparent change in play, “This is proving to be a long match, after all.”

“Tezuka is used to long games, though, isn’t he?” Kawamura asked. The man had broken some junior high school records due to the length of some of his games and tie breaks. He had broken a few professional tournament records since his debut, as well.

“By changing his swing so suddenly, he actually puts himself at a disadvantage,” Inui nodded at Kawamura, “The likelihood of this being an attempt to conserve his strength is substantially less than it being an attempt to reduce stress.”

“Stress?” Momoshiro asked in confusion. Kaidoh’s hiss showed his own agreement to Momoshiro’s question. Since when had Tezuka ever experienced stress because of tennis?

“Bellucci has one of the strongest topspins in professional tennis,” Inui explained, “which certainly gives him an edge on clay courts, but, more importantly, gives him an edge against Tezuka, in particular. Especially in a match this long and drawn out.”

From where he sat, Fuji’s smile had fully disappeared, his attention caught on the game below, “This match isn’t going to end well.” Echizen’s face scrunched in a desire to argue against something he already knew to be true.

Fuji’s words came to fruition in the fourth set. A dropshot had sent Tezuka running to the net and, while he had returned it, Bellucci was attempting to finish the rally with a drive volley just out of Tezuka’s reach. Tezuka straightened his arm for the forehand, extending to his furthest reach, and easily met the ball.

Instead of a return, however, the heavy ball sent Tezuka’s racket flying from his left hand. His right hand immediately moved to his left elbow and it was plain to see by the way the man was working it that the joint was causing him some difficulty.

It would not be the first time Tezuka’s elbow had acted up on tour. In fact, the man had missed a couple tournaments his second year in the ATP circuit as his body adjusted to the heavy hits of the more senior players. He had recovered fully, of course, and finished that year having gained one hundred spots in the international ranking even with his recuperation period, but Bellucci’s extreme spin and the length of the game—they were touching on five hours now—had been enough to reaggravate the joint.

Bellucci took the game with little fight after that and Tezuka requested a medical evaluation. The physiotherapist on staff came onto the court and there were hushed whispers throughout the stands as the evaluation rushed to fill the short time offered to players when needed. Heads bent together and Tezuka sent a glance to his coach before nodding at the therapist’s words. With the Madrid Masters tournament only a week away, it was no surprise to anyone when he withdrew from the match, disappearing into the locker room for further treatment and a more thorough evaluation now that the clock was not standing against them.

Up in the stands, the crowd either departed or gathered into groups to discuss their dissatisfaction at the match’s premature end, even if the following match was scheduled to have started one hour ago. Echizen stood in the middle of his own group of concerned conversation and worried glances, hands fisted at his sides, fingernails biting into the flesh of his palms and head lowered so that his bangs fell to cover his face. He was still missing his hat.

“Echizen?” Momoshiro questioned at the youngest member’s sudden action.

“Ponta,” Echizen replied in a low voice as he shoved his way out of the group and down the bleachers toward the locker room entrance.

“But that’s not the dire-” Momoshiro began to argue before he saw Fuji’s sharp eyes and the finger he now held to his lips. Momoshiro’s jaw slammed shut after a moment’s consideration and realization.

“We should probably let those two have whatever time and space they need after treatment,” Fuji recommended and Oishi seemed ready to argue that Tezuka should have everyone’s support right now until Kikumaru nodded his own agreement. “The chance of the injury being career-breaking is nearly non-existent,” Inui argued for everyone’s benefit, “I would have to see the doctor’s chart to make any prognosis, but I imagine he will be back for Madrid. It is likely why he pulled out so quickly.”

Fuji pulled out his phone and tapped a quick message to Tezuka:  _ Take whatever time needed. We’ll be waiting for an update back at the hotel. _

_ v. _

He had been running for a little less than an hour. As accustomed to running as he was, Kaidoh was certain that, at his standard pace, he had managed a solid fifteen kilometers, if not sixteen, in his run around the town this morning, even if it was a new trail whose exact distance he did not know. With heavy breaths, the young man ripped his bandana off his head and wiped at his forehead, jaw and neck.

The doorman ushered Kaidoh in as he drew near, recognizing the man from the daily runs he had been doing ever since their arrival before the Open had started, and Kaidoh sent him a nod and a hiss of gratitude to which the doorman did not respond.

It was as he was walking towards the stairwell—Kaidoh made it a habit to take stairs over elevator when the option was available—that he caught sight of a familiar head of brown hair. Tezuka was here early, for some reason, though it took only one more glance to recognize that Echizen—of all people, Echizen, who rarely woke up on time, let alone early, even now—was standing with him.

“And you swear you’ll be better for Madrid?”

The words were soft. Kaidoh barely heard them, but, wanting to know the answer, as well, he remained standing where he was, close enough to hear but hidden by a potted plant of some sort. If he moved a few leaves out of the way, he could see the back of Echizen’s head and most of Tezuka’s face.

Tezuka let out a small laugh and a smile, “I’ve sworn, the doctors have sworn, Ryoma. If you don’t believe me yet, I don’t know what will help.”

Kaidoh choked.  _ Ryoma. _ While he had not doubted Inui’s deductions or Fuji’s statements, it was one thing to hear your old tennis captain and clubmate were dating but quite another to see irrefutable evidence.  _ Ryoma. _ Tezuka had smiled and called Echizen  _ Ryoma. _

Echizen harrumphed before reaching out to the braced arm held tight against Tezuka’s chest. “It doesn’t look minor,” he worried and Tezuka’s indulgent smile only grew. “The compression sleeve is simply there to help with swelling and pain while the brace is to keep my elbow immobilized and rested. The brace, if not both, will be off by finals.”

“If you say so,” Echizen continued to grumble, though his voice sounded substantially lighter compared to earlier. His fingertips never stopped tracing over the immobilizer brace. “You know,” he continued in a gruff voice, “if you keep this up, I’m going to fly right by you in the rankings.”

“I’ll just make sure to return the favor,” Tezuka replied glibly and Kaidoh suddenly realized this was the two teasing each other. Flirting? He couldn’t breathe. He was quite sure his face had either gone stark white or Seigaku blue.

The elevator dinged and doors opened across the lobby. Momoshiro’s loud voice boomed even to the quiet corner Kaidoh was in and was followed shortly by Kikumaru’s. “Ochibi wasn’t waking up at all, was he?”

“I didn’t hear a peep or a stir,” Momoshiro responded, “I hope he doesn’t sleep through his match. Not like anyone can stand in for him as a pro.”

Kaidoh was not the only one who had heard their arrival and, as he turned his attention back to Tezuka and Echizen, they were standing much further apart.

“You’ll be watching?” Echizen asked with bated breath.

Tezuka’s smile was short-lived this time, but Kaidoh saw it all the same. “Of course,” he replied with a bemused tone and a glint in his eyes. Tezuka had watched each and every one of Echizen’s matches with the group so far, just as Echizen had watched Tezuka’s. It helped they were on opposite sides of the bracket so played on opposing days.

Echizen turned to leave after one more whispered comment and Kaidoh’s eyes widened, realizing he would be seen if he did not move soon, now, immediately. But, right before he could panic or be caught, a hand shot out and dragged him behind a pillar.

“Here, Kaidoh. Drink this and calm down.”

A bottle of something was shoved into the man’s hands and, without thinking about what it was or who had given it to him, Kaidoh knocked back the beverage. For a moment he did not recognize what it was. For a moment, right before his taste buds fully analyzed what it was he had put in his mouth and his brain had translated exactly who had given him the beverage, Kaidoh was grateful. He certainly had not wanted to be caught eavesdropping. He did not want anyone to realize it after the fact, either. But then the taste had hit and he realized it was Inui’s hand who had passed him the bottle and Inui’s voice who had told him to drink with a glint of his square-rimmed glasses.

Kaidoh’s left hand twitched, a thick orange beverage dribbled down his chin, and he instantly collapsed.

“That was pretty quick thinking, Inui,” Fuji smiled as he walked up to the man who was taking the pulse of their unconscious underclassman and opening his eyelids to check for pupil dilation and light response, “There was no way Kaidoh would have been capable of bringing himself under control in time after seeing and hearing that.”

Inui flipped to an alternate page in his notebook and marked down a few numbers across a row before turning up to look at Fuji. “I just needed some data on my newest Inui Juice creation,” he explained, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

Fuji chuckled.

“Is that so? I didn’t realize you were still improving upon those,” he asked as he eyed Kaidoh’s prone and twitching form, “I might be willing to give it a try after the match today.”

Inui’s smile—the one that had pressed even Tezuka into faster and faster laps in Junior High—glinted in the morning light.

_ vi. _

The stands roared again as deuce was called, breaking current world 8 Dominic Thiem’s fourth set point in a row. It was not one of the slams. It was not even one of the masters. The known names were few and far between and, for that reason, no one would have expected some upstart rookie to not only make it to the finals, but even press a seeded player this far against the ropes.

Echizen smirked and adjusted the brim of his cap as the early May sun beat down on the clay court. “You’ve still got lots more to work on,” he called out to his opponent as he pulled a ball from his pocket and bounced it twice to test before catching it and squeezing tight at the sound and feel of the crowd’s excitement. It might not be Tezuka across the court from him, but the young player’s form was perfect and he clearly had energy to spare.

A topspin serve blistered past Thiem and the crowd went wild again as the announcement, “Advantage: Echizen,” rang out.

Up in the stands, Inui was speeding through notes and murmuring to himself while Tezuka and Fuji discussed the match. “Echizen is going to develop quite the name for himself with this match,” Fuji pointed out, “Thiem’s considered one of the best clay-court specialists in the world right now.”

Tezuka nodded as Echizen served once more and Thiem caught up. “Echizen grew up on dirt courts, so I’d imagine clay isn’t too hard for him either,” Momoshiro pointed out from behind the two, leaning forward and accidentally jostling Tezuka’s shoulder. He apologized profusely, but Tezuka demurred.

“Echizen’s playstyle does best on hardcourts,” he pointed out, his eyes tracking every one of Echizen’s movements on the court, “but his ability to adapt has always been his strongest weapon. He played a strong serve and volley player in the semi-finals and here he’s already dismantled Thiem’s aggressive baselining.”

“Oh, Drive B!” Kikumaru shouted, drawing the attention of the group back to the court where Echizen leapt into the air from a slide, “You can do it, Ochibi!”

“Not likely,” Inui pointed out as Thiem hit the ball back with a fast and heavy forehand, “Thiem’s known for his forehand and its superior control of high bouncing balls.”

“But it did open the court up pretty well,” Kawamura pointed out as Ryoma caught up to Thiem’s return and hit a cross-court drop-shot his opponent could not catch up to, drawing the match to a raucous close.

“Echizen has officially climbed higher faster than Nadal did in his first two years on the adult ATP tour,” Inui said as the group stood with the crowd. Kawamura, Momoshiro and Kikumaru shouted, hollered and whistled with the loudest of the viewers while Kaidoh, Fuji and Oishi applauded, “761 to 122 in less than two years. He’ll only climb higher from here out. Tezuka you should beware your own position.”

“It’s not a bad thing to have competition,” Tezuka replied.

Only Inui and Fuji both heard and noted the way Tezuka’s eyes followed Echizen to the podium. Only Fuji recognized the intense fire they held.


	2. Part 2

_ vii _ .

“I just think there’s a better way of doing this,” Oishi pointed out as he waited with Fuji in the lobby, “Tezuka and Echizen have both always been very private people. I’m sure there’s a reason they’ve kept this from us.”

Fuji hummed and nodded his head, “They definitely do have their right to their privacy,” he agreed. Before Oishi could take his argument any further, he continued, “But as their friends, we have our own right to show concern for their well-being. From what I heard, I remember you joining up with the group following Echizen, Momoshiro and Tachibana’s little sister back when there was rumors of a triangle?”

Oishi flushed at that, his fists clenching. “I followed out of concern,” he argued, “I thought they might actually fight. It was for the team’s sake.”

“And we’re all just concerned about Tezuka and Echizen. We wouldn’t want them to think we wouldn’t accept them,” Fuji argued. As much as Oishi knew Fuji was twisting the truth to argue with him, he could not think of a counter-argument. In truth, it was important that his friend knew he did not have to hide anything from him, that Oishi would accept both of them and their choices without a single thought.

Oishi just knew better than to trust the smile on Eiji’s face or the plan Fuji had come up with.

“But what if we’re wrong?” he asked, instead, “The last thing we should want to do is risk their friendship by making things awkward between them. They see each other regularly on the circuit and if it goes poorly, it could even affect their play.”

“Oishi, you’re taking this way too seriously!” Eiji pouted as he flopped onto the nearby sofa.

“Of course I’m taking this seriously,” Oishi scolded in reply, “These are our friends we’re talking about!”

“Oishi, I promise we’re not getting anything wrong,” Fuji interjected.

“You can’t be certain if they haven’t said anything.”

“Oh, yes,” Fuji replied, his shoulders shaking in laughter, “I really can.”

“Fujiiiii what did you seeeeee?” Eiji pleaded.

Fuji remained silent and smirked and Oishi felt his face flame up in embarrassment.

“Either way, I know I’m not wrong,” Fuji confirmed, “And if they really want to deny it, we aren’t doing or saying anything obvious. They can always pretend they don’t realize we know if they don’t want to come out. It’s just our way of making sure they know we’re okay with it.”

Oishi crossed his arms over his chest but sighed in defeat. Eiji jumped up from the sofa and cheered.

_ viii. _

“What do you mean I’m footing the bill? It’s my celebration dinner!” Echizen argued as laughter rang out from the table.

“Exactly!” Momoshiro shouted as he jostled Echizen with his elbow, “You just won a nice, fat paycheck. So treat your friends who flew across the world to watch.”

“The money goes into gear and paying for the next competition,” Echizen grumbled as he stabbed his fork into his dessert, “And if I was paying for my own celebration, why didn’t I get to choose?”

“Because WacDonald’s is not an acceptable celebration, nya!” Kikumaru scolded, “We had to find something like a Kawamura sushi place!”

“Kawamura sushi was free and we didn’t have to dress up,” Echizen grumbled as the table got loud again, reminiscing in victory parties from first junior high and, later, after Tezuka and Echizen had left for other countries and professional careers, high school. That was when Fuji had considered going pro before his wrist injury. It was after Kawamura had quit to focus on his family’s restaurant but had still opened the place up for regular celebrations. It was when Oishi and Kikumaru hadn’t spoken for an entire month when Oishi had finally confirmed he would be quitting the tennis club in his third year to focus on university entrance exams and would not consider going pro with Kikumaru.

Tezuka and Echizen had flown in for the Japan Open and it had taken the whole group getting together for a junior high reunion to finally break the frosted silence between them.

“It’s fine, isn’t it?” Fuji asked as he returned from a trip to the restroom, “You’ll win a lot more tournaments that we won’t be there for. Let us celebrate with you when we can.”

Echizen stared down at his pant leg and picked at the seam. “Got it, senpai,” he finally agreed, unable and unwilling to argue with a comment like that. Tezuka knocked his elbow against Echizen’s arm. Echizen rolled his eyes but smiled all the same.

“Good.” Fuji nodded his head in assurance before grabbing Echizen’s arm and standing up, “Now you should come with me.”

“What?”

Fuji smiled up at Echizen, who had passed him up years back. “I need a translator,” he explained before turning around and tugging Echizen along behind him.

“Tezuka’s the one who lives in Germany,” Echizen pointed out.

“I’m sure English will work just fine,” Fuji argued as he led them past the greeter’s stand and out the door.

Echizen turned his head around to watch in surprise as the group disappeared from view. “Why are we going outside?”

Fuji only laughed and hummed thoughtfully, continuing to drag Echizen along.

“Wait,” Echizen realized nearly a block away, “You spent a semester in Austria! You know German!”

“It’s not quite the same,” Fuji disagreed, but laughed all the same.

Back at the restaurant, Inui and Kaidoh went looking for Echizen while Kawamura and Eiji both slipped off to the restroom.

It took none of them coming back for fifteen minutes before Tezuka stopped their waitress to see if she had seen the rest of their party.

“I saw them leaving not long ago,” she replied, “In groups.”

“We should probably go find them,” Oishi decided and Tezuka and Momo agreed. Tezuka pulled out his wallet, but when he asked for the check the waitress shook her head and said it had already been settled.

“Nothing to pay? Okay, let’s go,” Momo cut in when Tezuka started to ask who had had covered the bill while slipping his wallet back in his pocket, “I’m sure the pretty server has other tables.”

_ ix. _

_ “I’m trusting you two with the most important job,” Fuji said after he had given envelopes and instructions to the other four. “We need to make sure Tezuka finds Echizen last. Which means he can’t just pull out his phone. You have to keep him occupied.” _

_ “Fuji-senpai, isn’t that a better job for you? Echizen and I were always hanging out together in junior high, so maybe I should be the one to steal him away?” Momoshiro asked and Fuji shook his head. _

_ “For one, it needs to be one of the groom’s friends, in which case Oishi and I would be best,” he pointed out, “And I’m doing this because Oishi wouldn’t be able to manage Echizen once he starts to push back.” Oishi opened his mouth to protest and Fuji raised a hand to cut him off, “Which is fine because you’re caring about his self-determination, but it’s something Inui and I still kept in mind when planning this.” _

_ Oishi sighed in annoyance, “I’m not going to purposely sabotage this.” _

_ “No,” Fuji agreed, “But if Echizen or Tezuka started showing any signs of anxiety over the whole situation, you might let them know more than necessary while trying to calm them down. If they pushed enough, you would not hold them back from walking out of the whole thing. It’s who you are, Oishi, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” _

_ “Except when we’re trying to keep things fun and a secret,” Momoshiro added with a cheeky grin. _

“Hey, this place is open, let’s check inside,” Momoshiro suggested as he nodded to a small pub not far from the restaurant.

Tezuka frowned in confusion, but before he could say anything, Oishi spoke up.

“It might seem weird,” he said with a nervous laugh, “But there’s no harm in trying. And it won’t take long if they aren’t there.”

“Yes,” Tezuka agreed, though Momoshiro sensed a developing unease or wariness in the sharpness of Tezuka’s gaze and tightness in his shoulders.

When Tezuka stepped inside in front of them, Momoshiro sent a wide-eyed look of caution at Oishi before following them both in.

“So here you are, Mamushi!” Momoshiro shouted out as soon as he caught sight of a familiar face.

_ x. _

“Inui? Kaidoh?” Tezuka asked once he stepped up beside the two at the bar and frowned down at the glasses of beer they were nursing.

“I realized I left my phone at the hotel and Kaidoh’s isn’t set up for global calling. We didn’t want to get too lost while searching for the others,” Inui explained, “so figured it would be best to stay where we were until we were found as, without my phone, I do not currently have a map, either. It would be rude to remain in a place of business without purchasing something.”

“And have you seen the others?” Tezuka asked.

“No, but if you’d get the bill for us, we’d be happy to help,” Inui replied. Kaidoh’s shoulders climbed up to his ears and he hissed before taking another drink of his beer.

“You don’t have money?”

“My card’s with my phone,” Inui explained, “And Kaidoh forgot to exchange his yen for euros at the airport.”

“Ah, who cares, Tezuka?” Momoshiro asked with a slap to Tezuka’s back, “If you and Oishi go cover the tab, I’ll get these two out the door.”

Tezuka sighed and nodded before walking up to the bar and garnering the man’s attention.  _ “Excuse me, sir, I would like to cover the tabs for those two over there,” _ he said while pointing out Inui and Kaidoh.

Oishi, who had walked up with Tezuka blinked at the rapidfire German.

_ “Ah, so you are Tezuka Kunimitsu?” _ the bartender asked with a laugh,  _ “That’ll be eight euros.” _

Tezuka handed over the cash with a shake of his head, realizing Inui must have planned on Tezuka paying for them all along if the bartender knew his name.

With a sigh, Tezuka slipped his wallet back into his pocket. A clack on the bar in front of him had him looking back up to see a pilsner in front of him.

_ “What—?” _

_ “Drink up,” _ the bartender said and winked,  _ “From the sounds of it, you’ll need as many as you get tonight. You’ve ransomed those two for the time-being, though.” _

Tezuka frowned, but wasn’t rude enough to turn down a drink. He was generally one to savor his alcohol, but with half of the group still missing somewhere in the city, he grabbed the glass and drank it down as quick as he could, wincing at the fizzy, alcoholic sting in his chest.

Two men sitting nearby laughed and cheered. They raised their glasses at Tezuka when he sent them a puzzled glance.

“Tezuka, let’s go,” Oishi suggested, tugging on Tezuka’s arm.

“Yes, lets,” he agreed, ready to put the odd interaction behind him.

_ “Have fun! _ ” the two men shout after Tezuka and Oishi as they exit the pub. Thankfully, Momoshiro, Inui and Kaidoh were waiting for them outside, ready to search for everyone else.

_ xi. _

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Takashi asked as he followed Eiji into the bar.

“Of course it’s the right place!” Eiji replied exuberantly, holding up the letter Fuji had given them along with explicit typed instructions on what to do. He pointed at the singular piece of German on the paper then the matching German on the building’s front. “It’s the same name and we followed the directions Inui wrote down exactly.”

Takashi nodded his agreement. “I’d just hate if we messed this up by accident.”

“It’s going to be just fine, Taka-san, just you wait and see!” Eiji replied before bounding up to a server and presenting her with the other piece of paper they had been given—this one completely in German.

_ “Eku-skyuzu me!” _ Eiji greeted with English he hadn’t practiced since university, most-likely,  _ “Preazu reado zisu. Sankyu!” _

Takashi only spoke minimal English when a foreigner wandered into his sushi shop, so he was probably at the same level as Eiji, but far less willing to attempt to communicate if he didn’t have to. Instead, he let Eiji take the lead.

The woman blinked at Eiji before taking the letter and giving it a quick read-through. Kawamura watched her brow furrow as she checked the back of the paper before flipping it over to read it once more.

Just when Takashi was beginning to wonder if the letter they’d been given was a bunch of gibberish, the woman laughed and waved her hand to direct Eiji and him to follow her.  _ “Zis vay, please,” _ she said in careful English.

She handed the letter over to the woman at the bar with a laugh as they passed her. She sat the two of them together a bit further down the bar and the other woman, also sporting an entertained smile, served them a beer each.

_ “My name is Anja,” _ the bartender introduced herself, slow and loud,  _ “Let me know if need anyzing.” _

_ “Sankyu!” _ Eiji replied. He and Takashi smiled and nodded at her until she left.

“Do you have any idea what she said?”

Takashi frowned. “I think she said her name is Anya?”

“We should’ve brought you a racquet, Taka-san,” Eiji teased him with a grin, “You always used so much English in Burning mode.”

Takashi gave a nervous laugh in memory of his junior high days, then picked up the letter the bartender had set back down in front of them and changed the topic. “Do we even know what this says?”

Eiji studied the foreign letters with him before shrugging, “Fujiko just said it explained what we’re doing. About the whole kidnapping thing. And how Tezuka will be by to pay for our drinks.”

“ _ I hear your friends are getting married _ ,” the person two seats away from them leaned over to say in heavily accented English, “ _ You are doink, uh...Brautentfuhrung...eh….? _ ”

“ _ Bride kidnap _ ,” the person on their other side translated.

“ _ Drink your beer und leave zem alone. Zey don’t understand you _ ,” Anya interrupted the two German patrons with her own English. Takashi sent a glance at Kikumaru’s tense smile and shifty eyes and realized he probably looked even more confused.

“Taka-san, I really hope Tezuka gets here soon,” Kikumaru squeaked through his nervous grin as Anya and the patrons on either side of them got caught up in a fast-paced German conversation that had all three laughing.

Takashi had the distinct feeling the three were talking, and laughing, about him and Kikumaru. With a nod and murmur of agreement to Kikumaru’s wish, Takashi drained his entire beer stein in one go and immediately held it out for a refill.

_ xii. _

There was a loud cheer when the group walked into the pub. Momoshiro noticed it all seemed to be centered around one small section by the bar, but could not see what had caused it.

“Oh, no…this was not in any calculations,” Inui muttered to himself as Kikumaru’s laugh rose above the crowd’s volume.

“Drink! Drink! Taka-san!”

Momoshiro and Inui stared warily at each other while Kaidoh hissed.

“ _ I AM DRINK! GIVE ME, BABY! _ ” Kawamura’s broken English roared to the rafters.

The cheers roared again.

“What is going on here!” Oishi cried out, rushing up to the group and pushing through to face a cat-faced Kikumaru and red-faced, roaring Kawamura.

“Oishi! You made it! We were worried we were at the wrong spot!” Kikumaru shouted and leapt into Oishi’s arms.

“Wrong spot?” Tezuka asked with a frown, coming up behind Oishi. He took one look at the scene and sighed as he pulled out his wallet to settle their bill.

“Ah! Tezuka!” Kikumaru shouted at his appearance. He would have leapt into Tezuka’s arms if Oishi weren’t already holding him in place. Instead, Kikumaru bounced as he continued to plead. “Tezuka! We haven’t seen Ochibi! Ask us if we’ve seen Ochibi!”

“There isn’t much of a point in asking if you’ve already answered the question,” Tezuka pointed out.

Kikumaru pouted. “You’re supposed to ask us if we’ve seen Ochibi, though!”

“Fuji and I originally figured Kawamura’s natural tendency towards introversion and responsibility would temper Kikumaru, not provide the perfect outlet,” Inui muttered to Momoshiro. “I don’t think Fuji or I realized alcohol could work so well in bringing back Kawamura’s Burning Mode. A sore oversight on both our parts.”

“ _ I apologize for my friends’ behavior, _ ” Tezuka said to the bartender as he handed over a larger tip than would have been normal. “ _ They can be quite the instigators some times. _ ”

“ _ It’s been a lot of fun having them here _ ,” the bartender demurred through laughter, “ _ Though it’s good at least one in your group speaks such fluent German _ .”

“ _ I hear you are looking for a certain someone, _ ” the person on the stool nearest where Kikumaru had been standing said.

“ _ We’d be happy to help for a small incentive _ ,” the person beside them added with a shake of their stein and a wink.

Tezuka studied the two men with surprise. “ _ We are still missing a few from our party, but I would hate to take up any of your own time in the search _ ,” he finally said. “ _ Between the seven of us, we should be able to find them quickly _ .”

“Gather up, we still have Fuji and Echizen to locate,” Tezuka commanded as he turned back to the group, grabbing the water glass out of Kawamura’s hands and leaving it on the bar while attempting to herd the group back into the street.

“ _ Don’t go yet _ !” yet another of the pub’s patrons called out from a group of likely friends or coworkers.

“ _ Have a drink on us _ !” another at their table added. “ _ Anja! Pour this Tezka a beer on us! _ ”

Tezuka balked. “ _ I don’t really think we have time— _ ”

“ _ You can’t rush off too quickly just because a special someone calls, _ ” the first person to speak from that group said with a wink as they walked up to hand over the money for the drink the bartender had just set in front of Tezuka, “ _ You have to make time for friends _ .  _ And here, Anja has your drink and I have paid, so now we are friends _ .”

“ _ Drink! _ ” came the rousing cry from the table.

The guy who had paid for Tezuka’s drink winked at him. “ _ Give us something to celebrate tonight _ .”

Tezuka looked back and forth between the two pubgoers in confusion before sending a glance back to his own group. They looked confused but not particularly put-out, which was not much of a surprise considering they likely had no clue what odd turn the conversation around them had taken.

Celebrating what?

Special someone who?

Tezuka sighed to himself and nodded. “ _ I appreciate the gesture _ ,” he said as he raised his glass to them.

_ xiii. _

“They’re a cute couple.”

Echizen sent him a confused pout and Fuji nodded to the two women leaning in close and giggling together, their hands intertwined on top of the table. “I’m glad they live in a country they feel comfortable being so openly together in,” Fuji continued, “One of the things I found so interesting during my time I studied in Austria was how western culture is so focused on the individual experience. Germany always seemed a very open and warm country.”

Echizen sent the women a glance before sinking further into his seat and staring out the window. Fuji had him fully hemmed in and unable to escape.

A server brought over the two beers Fuji had ordered and he thanked her as he slid one in front of Echizen.

“This is such a short trip, but it’s really brought back my love of Europe,” Fuji continued, “I remember going to the coast along northern Germany the summer I was backpacking across Europe. I never made it to Bavaria, though.”

Echizen spun the glass of beer around in his hand. Some foam spilled over the edge and ran down the length of the glass to pool on the table.

“Tezuka seems like he appreciates a good beer, so maybe the three of us can come back together and visit a bit more. Though if he’s more for sours, I’d love to return to Belgium.”

Echizen’s fingers clenched momentarily on the glass and Fuji smiled to himself.

“Why did you even drag me here, Fuji?” Echizen finally asked in an annoyance that only seemed to grow with Fuji’s smile.

“I’m sure the others will find us soon enough if you’re missing any of them particularly,” Fuji replied. Echizen’s following scowl only made the moment sweeter.

“You should drink your beer,” Fuji recommended. “I promise, you won’t have to pay for it.”

“You’re being really weird,” Echizen pointed out but pulled the glass over and began to sip at the ale.

Behind them, the door opened. Fuji turned around and smiled and waved at the crowd that piled inside. “Over here, come sit!” he called, standing up. “I’ll go get drinks for all of us.”

Fuji set his hands on the back of the chair next to Echizen. “Tezuka,” he said, “come sit here.”

_ xiv. _

Inui’s laughter echoed in the room, loud and overzealous. His face was red and his tie had migrated up to his head at some point between his third and fourth beer. Momoshiro and Kaidoh were either barely holding onto consciousness or barely holding onto their dinners as they faced off in a drinking contest, neither willing to surrender to the other despite how low and gravelly their voices had become. Kikumaru was practically purring as he rested his head against the table next to Oishi, with Oishi attempting to both try to contain the drunken chaos and not disturb Kikumaru’s drunken repose. Even as he slept through Kawamura’s loud discussion with the pub’s cook—a shouted mix of Japanese, broken English, and German that both men actually seemed to be keeping up with—there was no telling what might be the final thing to jerk him back to consciousness early enough to go for another drink.

Fuji finished taking a picture of a quietly comfortable Echizen burrowed into Tezuka’s side and sighed. “I guess it’s about time we should head back. Most of us have flights tomorrow.” He looked around for their server to see about closing their check, but found him occupied elsewhere.

“Are you going to tell me what this was about yet, Fuji?” Tezuka asked, shifting a bit so he could wrap his arm around Echizen and give him a shake to keep him awake.

Fuji grinned. “You mean you haven’t figured it out yet?”

Tezuka frowned and turned to Echizen as he pulled himself away, sitting up fully on his own.

“Nn?” Echizen hummed in confusion.

“We’re leaving soon,” Tezuka explained, “Try to stay awake.”

Echizen nodded and Tezuka slipped out of the bench to settle the bill with Fuji while Oishi gathered everyone else and put an end to Momoshiro’s and Kaidoh’s competition. With their change pocketed, Fuji stopped Tezuka before he could rejoin the group and tucked a piece of barley into the chest pocket on his sport coat. He patted it with a hum and a smile and left Tezuka glaring after him in confusion.

_ “Congratulations,” _ their server said to Tezuka with his own smile before moving to respond to a table’s call.

_ xv. _

Between the walking and the cool evening air, the worst of the group’s drunkeness had faded by the time they made it to Kunimitsu’s townhouse. It was a fair walk from Schwabing to Denning, especially when most of the group would have to walk back over the river to get to their hotel, but no matter how Kunimitsu had argued they split up, the group seemed set on walking him home.

“Are you sure you can make it back?” he asked the group as he dug around his pockets for his keys.

“I can manage enough German to get us back, Tezuka,” Fuji promised. “We’ll see the two of you for breakfast in the morning before we fly out, yes?”

“Two?” Kunimitsu asked in confusion.

“Echizen, no need for being shy!” Momoshiro shouted. He shoved Ryoma into Kunimitsu and the group snickered.

“Momo!” Ryoma scolded.

“We’ll see you in the morning, have a good night!” Kikumaru said with a laugh and a wave.

Kunimitsu watched the group walk off, leaving him and Ryoma behind. When Kunimitsu turned to Ryoma, he looked just as confused as Kunimitsu felt.

“Do you want me to call a cab to get you back to the hotel?” Kunimitsu asked.

Ryoma turned to look after the group stumbling their way back toward the river. He shook his head. “I’d rather spend the night with you, since I can.”

Kunimitsu smiled and turned the both of them to the door, one of his hands resting against the small of Ryoma’s back while the other unlocked the door. “I’ve missed you this week,” he admitted, “so I’m not going to complain about finally getting you back.”

Ryoma smirked up at him and knocked into his arm before slipping through the open door first.

Kunimitsu closed and locked the door behind the both of them, but, when he turned around, he bumped into Ryoma, who had stopped two steps through the door to stare at his hands.

“Ryoma?”

“I don’t remember putting these in my pocket…” Ryoma said. He turned around and held out his hands to show a dinner roll and a packet of salt.

Kunimitsu blinked down at the two items as his brain, still slow from a fair few drinks over the course of the night, finally began to put the pieces together. He grabbed the dinner roll and tossed it between his two hands before huffing. He walked over to set it and the barley from his chest pocket on the kitchen counter and shook his head.

“What’s so funny?” Ryoma asked, following close behind and leaving the salt packet next to the roll and barley to accept the glass of water Kunimitsu offered him, instead.

“I figured out what that whole night was about,” Kunimitsu said and smirked down at Ryoma. He finished off his water and took Ryoma’s empty glass, stacking them in the sink to be washed tomorrow.

Ryoma huffed as Kunimitsu walked back out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom. “Are you gonna share with the class?”

Kunimitsu turned back around to face him near the entryway again and leaned down to give him a thorough kiss. “I’ll explain in the morning,” he said, “But just be glad they didn’t throw dishes at us.”

“Wha—?”

Something shattered outside the door. Kunimitsu and Ryoma both jump and turn to stare at it.

“Sorry about that!” Fuji called from the other side, “We had to come back once we realized we forgot! Have a good night!”

Ryoma turned back to Kunimitsu. “Dishes?” he asked.

Kunimitsu sighed. “Can we just...deal with it in the morning?”

_ xvi. _

“German wedding traditions?”

Kunimitsu swept the last few shards of broken porcelain off the doorstep and dumped them in the kitchen trash. “Yes,” he said, “The bride kidnapping, the beer, the broken whatever this was...Bowl, maybe? Fuji slipped me a stalk of barley. He’s probably the one who gave you the bread and salt, too.”

“Heeeeh,” Ryoma hummed as he peeked into the trash can then tossed the now stale roll and packet of salt away, as well. “So they knew?” he asked. “I thought we were doing pretty good at hiding.”

Kunimitsu tucked the dustpan and hand broom below the sink and walked up behind Ryoma. “I thought so, too, but apparently we slipped up somewhere.” When Ryoma leaned back against Kunimitsu’s chest, Kunimitsu wrapped his arms around him.

Ryoma hummed. “Well, it’s not like Fuji finding out is that much of a surprise.” Memories of hiding in Kunimitsu’s bedroom when Fuji had randomly dropped in one weekend when he’d been studying in Austria floated to the forefront of his mind and he snorted. “And you were all worried about how they’d react,” Ryoma verbally poked. He turned around in Kunimitsu’s arms, rested his own around Kunimitsu’s shoulders, and smirked up at him. “So, think we should actually get married now, Kunimitsu?”

The corner of Kunimitsu’s mouth tugged down to a frown, but as he met Ryoma’s grin it softened back up until he huffed and shook his head. “Ryoma, I don’t think marriage is something that should be joked about,” he said with a soft look, his hands playing with the hem of Ryoma’s shirt.

Ryoma’s skin tingled when Kunimitsu’s fingers brushed against it and he pressed closer, leaning up to kiss him soundly. It was a conversation neither of them was prepared for yet, but both knew would be in their future at some point. It was easy to brush off for now, though.

Ryoma pulled back from the kiss and licked his lips. “They got it wrong, though, you know,” he said, mischief still strung through each word.

“Wrong?” Kunimitsu asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“We’re gay,” Ryoma pointed out. “The whole point is there is no bride.”  


Kunimitsu blinked and then laughed. He leaned down the few inches needed to press his forehead against Ryoma’s. “I love you.”

Ryoma leaned into the touch, and nipped at Kunimitsu’s lips. “Now that the broken dish is all cleaned up,” he suggested, his eyes blazing molten gold, “care to prove it?” The hands around Kunimitsu’s shoulders slipped down his chest and around to grab his ass. “I have a win I want to finish celebrating.”

Later, they would show up to breakfast late, half put-together and holding hands and their friends would cheer. Later, they’d deal with the questions and the congratulations, the teasing and well-wishes. For now, though, Ryoma pulled Kunimitsu back into the bedroom, walking backwards so he never had to look away.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my wonderful betareader, Solosorca. Please feel free to drop chat with me about these lovely tennis boys on tumblr at bookwyrmling.


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